When One Door Closes
by DontEvenLookatMe
Summary: ...Commit a felony and try to break in! Well, that was Nathalie's train of thought, anyway. Now she's stuck in a Disney movie, and it happens to be one of the more dangerous ones. She has to use her wits to survive the plot, as well as try to find a way back home. [Typical girl-falls-into-fandom story, probable QuasixOC.]
1. Paris Holds the Key

"Banana?" Dr. Jacques Villeneuve offered the yellow fruit to his adopted sister as she crammed toast into her mouth.

"No thanks," Nathalie Villeneuve replied, preoccupied with eating, organising a bunch of files, and packing the shoulder bag on set next to her bowl on the table. Behind her, the small television flickered, broadcasting the news as images of dancing people and traffic jams showed on the screen.

"You need some form of plant matter besides grains," He persisted sternly, waving the banana for emphasis. "Your digestion will go haywire if you don't- and the banana is both a fruit and a herb so that means-"

The brunette frowned, taking the banana from her brother and shoving it into her bag without even looking at him. She took a gulp of coffee and stared intently at one paper through her glasses. After letting her eyes scan the page, she reached her decision, and slipped it into a manila folder.

The young doctor sighed and got up from his breakfast, walking straight to the kitchen conveniently close to the living room. Well, it was an apartment, after all.

"I have to get to my practice soon," He called over the counter. "It's hard to run a private clinic in Paris, you know. Patients can't wait forever."

Nathalie bundled everything neatly, and then topped it off with her birth certificate. She also had ID anyway, and papers from social services explaining her situation, so that should have been enough. Smiling softly, she observed the compilation of her work.

"This could be the day," She murmured.

"Please, please don't get your hopes up," said Jacques, returning with a small packed lunch box.

"What do you think I am, five?" She sighed, though she didn't know what she was referring to: the lunch box or the way he kept cautioning her.

"You act like it," He mumbled, and Nathalie took her glasses off and glared at him.

The man ran a dark hand through his curly hair and sat down. "Look, you've spent a lot of money coming here to Paris from the countryside. I know that you want to find your parents, I understand. Just… these things are hard. The paperwork, and not to mention circumstances-" He flinched at the unspoken words, that might have left his mouth.

"I know…" Nathalie said. "I know that they might not even be here, and I know that I might not like what I find. But I need to at least try. All my life I've been like a sheep – lead through from one foster home to the other. I'm grateful for everything you and your dad did, really! Him adopting me was the best thing that happened. But I need to find my family-"

"I thought _we_ were your family," Her brother said quietly. "Dad, you, and me." Nathalie felt a pang of guilt.

"You are." She said, taking his hand. "I'll always love you, and I'll always remember what a great dad we had. What a great brother you are! I just, I remember kids in the system that were orphans, or knew their parents were terrible people. But I was given up; I don't know what happened. I don't know _why_."

Nathalie gave him a pleading look. "I need to know, that's all."

Jacques nodded at that, sighing. "Yeah, I can respect that. Just… Promise you'll talk to me if things don't go well."

"I will," She said, tucking the lunch box into her bag and rising from the table. "I promise."

"And be careful of those weird flash mobs that have been happening in the city! They've caused traffic accidents, apparently."

"I'll keep an eye out!" She said, stopping to check her makeup in a mirror, and liberally applying concealer until her freckles were out of sight.

"Make sure the mini first aid kit I bought you is in your handbag!"

"Mmmhm." Nathalie finished her lipstick, hoping that the colour wouldn't emphasise her overbite too much.

"And – Nathalie?"

"Hm?" She paused in the middle of putting on her jacket.

"Remember that… Whatever happens, you'll always be my bratty little sister." He smiled a genuine smile then, teeth showing in stark contrast to his black skin.

She smiled brightly in return, almond eyes almost looking closed. "Yeah, and you'll always be my fussy older brother."

They shared one last hug, and then she ran out the door.

Jacques sighed, looking back at the television. There were people at the Paris' Charles De Gaulle Airport, dancing in perfectly choreographed lines, apparently doing a big finish that would make singers on Broadway jealous.

"_Paris_

_Holds the key_

_To your heart_!"

A chorus of ooh-la-la's ended their magnificent dance number.

"As you can see, chaos occured as passengers were harassed by flight attendants, airport staff and tour guides as they flash-mobbed in one of Paris' busiest airports. Authorities would consider disciplinary action if it wasn't for the fact that this would force them to fire every employee that was present. It seems as though Paris' Singing Sickness has struck again!"

Jacques stood, rolling his eyes. "Another bunch of tourists successfully traumatised. This'll be terrible for the economy."

* * *

A/N:

So, there's the prologue of my first Disney fanfic! HOND is my absolute favourite animated Disney film, and I had to do a 'girl falls into [insert fandom here]' story, no matter how overused the plot is. Anyway, thanks for reading!


	2. Journey to the Past

**Disclaimer: I don't own Disney's The Hunchback of Notre Dame or any other animated films used/mentioned in this fanfic, nor do I own any of these characters or the songs used. I'm merely having fun by practicing writing skills and sharing them online for feedback. I gain no money from any of this, please don't sue me because I have no money to begin with. ;A;**

* * *

"Ugh," Was the first noise to come out of Nathalie's mouth, as she held one lens her glasses over her notepad to read the address scrawled on it. The library that hosted the old archives was all the way on the Île de la Cité, for goodness' sake.

She surveyed the tram timetable, still not quite willing to wear her eyewear. All the times and dates made her head spin. "This is definitely not like in the countryside," The brunette murmured.

Nathalie heard music and turned to see a man in a business suit, singing like he was the star of an opera. The whole music craze that had hit Paris recently had weirded her out to no end. He swaggered past, until he disappeared into another street, and she shook her head.

Where these people managed to hide their stereos so that the background music was playing with them, she didn't know. Oddly enough, some citizens of Paris were actually desensitized to these spells of music, even joining in. She would never understand city folk.

Nathalie managed to catch a tram that crossed to her destination, and she sat at the back, uneasily watching the crowded, places that passed by the window. The magnitude of what she was about to seek had hit her, and her nerves were getting the better of her. Then, she frowned, wondering why she could hear soft music. Some strange feeling filled her, and before she knew what she was doing, she opened her mouth.

"_Heart, don't fail me now,  
Courage, don't desert me,_

_Don't turn back now that we're here."_

She paused for an instant, the thought: 'No way; what the heck is going on?' ran through her head, but the music had mingled with her emotions, and taken her.

_"People always say: "life is full of choices",  
No one ever mentions fear,"_

Nathalie took a deep breath, and the song poured out of her, unaware of some of the looks she was getting.

_"or how the road can seem so vast,  
on a journey… to the past."_

The motivational music was too much to resist, and the scenery changed as she travelled. Scenes of Paris revealed themselves in endless picturesque scenes, which mimicked paintings melding into a large gallery. Nathalie steeled herself, looking ahead.

_"Somewhere down this road, I know someone's waiting.  
Years of dreams just can't be wrong!  
Arms will open wide; I'll be safe and wanted,  
finally home where I belong."_

The brunette hugged the folder to her chest at the thought.

_"Well, starting now I'm learning fast,_

_on this journey to the past."_

Looking from her position at the back, a mother and father were doting on their young child a few seats in front of her, and Nathalie looked on longingly.

_"Home, love, family; there was once a time I must have had them too.  
Home, love, family; I will never be complete until I find you!"_

Nathalie was resolute as the tram pulled to a stop, and no longer was thinking about the atmosphere around her. It was time she found her roots, as she stepped off the tram and examined the traveller's handbook she had in her pocket as she began to walk.

_"One step at a time,  
one hope then another.  
Who knows where this road may go?  
Back to who I was,  
on to find my future,  
things my heart still needs to know.  
Yes, let this be a sign!  
Let this road be mine!  
Let it lead me to my past._

_And bring me home…  
at last!"_

THUD.

Welp, the brass was gone and the feeling left as quickly as it came. Nathalie found herself standing out of breath, facing the front door of her destination. She shook her head, wondering where the heck that came from. Obviously, the 'Singing Sickness' she'd been hearing about was more than a clever gimmick.

"Weird, I usually can't sing to save my life," She said to herself, and then pushed the door open. Nathalie had other things to think about at that moment.

It was about as old and musty as she had expected it to be, with dull lighting, old green carpet flooring and a thick, neither pleasant nor unpleasant smell. There was a sign to the left of her that read 'archives', and after a bit of wandering, she found the help desk that supposedly belonged to the one person she was looking for. She spotted a small bell and rang it a few times.

Then she stood, waiting.

Waiting still.

She rang the bell a few more times, until finally, a disgruntled looking man opened the door with a creak, and stomped up to the desk. Nathalie unconsciously stepped away when she saw how damned angry he appeared.

"What?" He said in a scratchy, grouchy voice.

"Um," She clutched her folder, blinking, before tentatively setting it down on the desk and sliding it towards him. What was this guy's problem? "Hello, I'm looking for a few records, to find someone - my biological mother. Do you have anything on a Blanche LeClair, from 1991 and onwards?"

He shook his head. "Look, there's been a… problem with the archival room at the moment. Some issues with the electricity, thanks to some snot-nosed kids getting in and messing up the place. No one but authorities and university students can access the place at the moment."

"Oh?" Nathalie said. "Surely there's something-"

"Nope, can't help you. Come back in a week or so, when I get this mess cleaned up."

Her blood was pumping at this point, and she couldn't believe her ears. "B-but you don't understand! I'm running low on cash, I'm only in Paris for another two days, and I can't take any more time off work back home, or else my boss will-"

"I'm sorry," The man said, though it didn't sound as though he was. In fact, he just looked even more irritated, if that was possible, and held her precious manila folder to her. "Look, there's nothing I can do, and frankly, I don't care. I can't help you."

Nathalie took it without a word, and as the man walked back into the back room and slammed the door with a bang.

"After all that work…" The young woman said to herself as she quietly quietly walked away.

Nathalie rested her hand on the door handle of the exit, and then stopped as her eyes rested on her wristwatch. It's digital numbers dutifully showed the time: 12:24pm. She stared at it for a few seconds, her face changing as an idea came to mind.

This idea lead to her hiding behind a bookshelf, peering at the archive's desk and waiting for that grouchy guy to take a lunch break. An elderly lady passed her, giving Nathalie an odd look, but the senior citizen left carrying her large-print romance novels without saying anything.

Finally, the man seemed to leave, putting an 'out to lunch' sign on his desk before stomping off. Nathalie took her chance, making sure no one was around before sneaking towards the door. It was left slightly ajar, she realised, and the brunette pushed through with no trouble. Inside was a hallway – one doorway leading to what looked like an office of some kind, and one other doorway. Choosing the latter, she found a large room filled with filing cabinets.

"Bingo," She whispered. Nathalie probably only had 15 minutes, tops, before the man returned, and she quickly began to sift through the papers.

Loose papers littered the floor, and more that were obviously arranged in piles as the man had obviously attempted to clean up. A few children's movies were also around, namely Disney DVD's and whatnot. There was also crayon on some of the shelves and a few folders, and she supposed this was what he meant by 'snot-nosed kids' running rampant. She stifled a giggle as she saw the colourful, misshaped drawings. Even without her glasses, she could see how bad the damage was. Cute little brats.

In the end of the room, Nathalie noticed a wooden door, which looked surprisingly old and out of place. Nathalie was distracted by how ornate it was – there was something odd about it. There was an unusually decorative letter-opening in the door where mail would come in though a copy of _Disney's The Hunchback of Notre Dame_ was tastefully jammed into it. Oh, the memories that old movie dredged up. She smiled at that.

Nathalie shook herself, realised that she had a job to do, and then froze when she heard footsteps. Had she really been standing, staring at that hypnotising door for so long? Behind the glass panel of the door to the archives, she saw a figure move to the offices. Her mind whirred, as she knew that he would soon return to continue cleaning.

The brunette approached the door, pulling out some bobby pins and frantically attacking the lock. "13 years in foster care, don't fail me now," She whispered.

There was a click, and she immediately dropped the pin and opened the door. It opened with a creak, and she then shut it behind her.

Nathalie stood there, pressing her ear to the door and hearing nothing. It was then that she turned, to see that the room was… an attic of some sort? It looked old and musty, with cobwebs on the ceiling. There was an old bed, covered in dust, and a small amount of light filtering through a hole in the ceiling. A window was also on the opposite sides of the room, with rough wooden shutters closed to the outside world.

In short, it looked like the whole room was an antique.

After a few moments, Nathalie turned back to the door, wanting to open it cautiously and check if the man was still there. She then frowned when she realised that the doorknob was stuck, and in fact, there wasn't even a keyhole, and there was no sign of the dvd in the letterhole. Was she trapped? Scared, she gave a few hard tugs on the door.

It was then that Nathalie heard it, softly at first, and vaguely familiar.

"_Olim, olim deus accelere…."_

Bells? Chanting? Oh God, that tune… It both figuratively and literally rang a bell.

_"…hoc saeculum splendidum,"_

She cautiously approached the window, hands resting on the wooden handles as the bells continued ringing. Dare she?

_"…accelere fiat venire olim_."

Gathering her courage, she opened the shutters, and was greeted with the sight of an old landscape, peasants milling about. However, she was distracted with the Notre Dame Cathedral being startlingly close down the road, and the sound of a blaringly large orchestra, singing an all too familiar tune.

Nathalie slammed the shutters closed before they could end the last note, and backed away. "Oh my God," She whispered, as her knees buckled under her.

Of all the movies to end up in, why did it have to be the darkest of them all?

* * *

A/N:

Phew, that was a monster of a chapter. I hope you enjoyed!


	3. Not in Paris Anymore (Kinda)

A/N: I'll use the word 'gypsy' when canon characters say it, but I personally prefer to use the more correct term: Roma. uvu Nothing against HoND, I know that their usage is purely innocent, it's just my principles that are affecting me.

* * *

Nathalie stood, rushing to the door and gave the handle a few more hard tugs, achieving nothing except having her sweat-slicked hand cause her to lose her grip and land on her rear.

The Asian girl sat on the dusty wooden floor for a while, not wanting to accept it. The situation was all a little too surreal for her to process, but somehow, she still believed that this was all real.

"I knew there was something weird about that door…" She said to herself.

Nathalie took out her phone, only to sigh when 'AUCUN SIGNAL' blared back at her. "I don't know what I was expecting," The brunette muttered. "This is, like, the middle ages or something."

The confused woman stood, surveying the room around her. Over to her left, there was a cupboard; just as ornate as the door she came in through. Cautiously, she opened it, and found a blue peasant's dress with puffy sleeves, as well as a brown over-coaty thing that women wore over them. There was even a blue apron.

"How the heck did you know that my favourite colour was blue?" She asked the wardrobe suspiciously, but took them, anyway. They were surprisingly clean, as though they hadn't been in the room for very long. Weird, indeed.

The brunette took a deep breath, eying a small staircase in the far corner of the room. Obviously, she was on the second or third floor of some house. She descended, wincing as a step made an ominous creaking noise. However, the young woman arrived at the bottom floor without incident, and she eyed the door that would lead to the outside world.

It was then that she hesitated. Was it that wise to leave? The door could do something weird while she was gone. There was also the manner of her appearance. "Did they even have Asian people around at this time? Or am I gonna be burned at the stake?" She wondered aloud. Then again, if the Roma people survived, then she should be fine, too, especially if she dressed as plainly as possible.

Nathalie looked back at the dismal, dusty old house, and wasn't exactly keen on staying. "I can't stay cooped up in here forever," She said to herself. The brunette changed clothes quickly, took off her wristwatch, and once she had figured out what went where, she grabbed her shoulder bag, and opened the door. Hopefully, no one would find the modern headband she had on weird, or her designer boots, or her bag, for that matter.

* * *

The sight of the historical streets of Paris greeted her as she cautiously emerged. Nathalie found a key on the inside lock of the door, and decided to lock it from the outside, once she closed the door behind her. She didn't want anyone finding that door thing, whatever it was.

Nathalie tried not to stare at the passers-by too much, even though her mind was still whirring at the fact that these people were both fictional, and from over 400 years ago.

She took a left down the road, towards the cathedral, memorising where she was. There was what seemed like a tailor on the opposite side of the house she came from, and that was a pretty good marker for her.

The cobbles made an oddly satisfying noise as Nathalie's modern boots hit them, and she inwardly hoped that they weren't too noticeable underneath her skirts. She took a look at other women's hairstyles, and attempted to tuck her short, brown hair underneath her headband, to try and disguise her short hair as merely an updo. It failed, however, and her dismally historically incorrect hair was on show for all to see. Did Disney studios even care for historical accuracy?

Another noise filled her ears, and she heard a familiar tune- could it be? Nathalie followed, eager to see if it was La Esmeralda. As a 10-year-old, the young Nathalie saw the dancing woman as an idol, both envious and in awe of the woman's fiery spirit.

The sight of an all too familiar dancing goat made Nathalie's heart leap with anticipation. To the right, there was her childhood hero, the beautiful woman Esmeralda herself. She stood, floored, as she tried to comprehend the presence of her childhood role model in front of her.

They actually locked eyes for an instant, and Nathalie smiled sheepishly. Her brown eyes flickered to a purple hat for coins, and she hurriedly reached into her bag for money, before she realised the issue with that thought. Euros weren't a thing here, were they?

The music had stopped, and Esmeralda and her group were starting to pack up. The dark-haired woman picked up the old purple hat, and Nathalie knew that she'd never have a chance like this again. Her hands wandered to her ears, and she unclipped the silver and diamond studs she had.

"Uh, wait!" Nathalie spoke up, approaching. She shyly handed the earrings to the other woman. "I have no money at the moment, will these do?

The older woman looked pleasantly surprised as she took them, watching the small studs glint in the sun. "Oh, really?"

She realised that Esmeralda was looking at her rather plain outfit, and she blushed in embarrassment. Nathalie probably looked pretty low-class, no doubt, or at least someone that couldn't afford to give such an expensive tip.

"Are you sure?" The Roma woman asked gently.

"Psh, yeah I'm sure," Nathalie replied, trying to look as casual as possible, though she blushed a little. "Spent everything I had on hand new boots, but… yeah."

In her attempts to not make too much eye contact, she noticed that the rest of Esmeralda's Roma friends were waving their friend over to leave.

"Thank you," Esmeralda said, giving Nathalie a pleasant smile before running to join the others.

The Asian girl felt as though her face would melt off with her blushing. Thank the Lord above for her tanned skin. "Finest girl in France, all right," Nathalie murmured, before exploring a little more. "No wonder, like, 3 guys fell for her."

* * *

Nathalie heard trumpets, and the introduction to an all-too familiar song. No way, the door conveniently landed her before the Feast of Fools? She had to see this.

Rushing over, she followed the music, the source of which was not as far away as she thought. Taking a breath, she pushed into the crowd, trying to at least get somewhat close to the action, but close enough to leave before… that scene. It was heartbreaking enough on screen, much less up close.

"See the festival, go back to the old house and that creepy old door, and try and get back home," Nathalie said to herself. "Sounds like a plan,"

_"Come one, come all!  
Leave your loops and milking stools  
Coop the hens and pen the mules  
Come one, come all!  
Close the churches and the schools  
It's the day for breaking rules  
Come and join the feast of ..."_

In the distance, Nathalie almost jumped up and down in excitement saw the crowd of people in black cloaks just before the music started, and…

"_Fools!_"

The beat was infectious, and Nathalie found herself dancing with strangers and following the action, despite herself. The music was wonderful when everyone around you was singing it, and everyone around her seemed to be in good cheer. The song continued verse by verse, and Nathalie even had time to show off some of her own dance moves, just as a certain line in the song came up.

"._..Join the bums and thieves and strumpets!_"

Heh, those moves may or may not had been ones that she had learned at certain questionable clubs. Still, everyone seemed to accept her heathen moves with cheer, whistling a little, all in the spirit of the festival. What's wrong with being a bit risque during such a time? Esmeralda got away with pole dancing.

As time went on, it was time for the aforementioned part of the celebrations. Esmeralda's dance was just as stunning as Nathalie remembered, the time traveller was rather happy that she was far-sighted. (Hey, a straight girl can appreciate a fellow pretty lady, can't she?)

By the time they got to the judging, Nathalie was having far too much fun to care that she had strayed too far towards the middle of the crowd. The music, combined with the fact that she could see three characters from her childhood on stage (a bit of a distance away, granted) made her thoughts turn to an excited buzz. Nathalie didn't even realise that she was far too close to the pillory until she actually leaned against it for support, and abruptly stopped singing.

"Oh," She said, just as the crowd fell silent in horror when they realised just who Quasimodo was.

Nathalie cursed, trying to push back into the crowd and leave. Unfortunately for her, they were unyielding, and even more difficult to navigate when they had crowned Quasimodo.

"No, no, no, no," She murmured, as the main characters got closer. Unfortunately, they arrived, and she only managed to travel a few more metres before everyone starting cheering on the new king. Not being able to move, she braced herself.

True to timing, a rotten fruit flew through the air, striking the poor man in the face. Nathalie flinched in sympathy. As more rotten vegetables followed the first projectile, she couldn't help but stare on in despair, it was like watching a train wreck.

As the lasso's flew, Nathalie noticed that something was wrong. That rope around his neck – shouldn't he have thrown it off by now? Though his hand was caught in it as well, it still looked like it was restricting breathing somewhat. She heard Quasimodo make an awful choked sound, and realised that her fears were confirmed. "Dear Lord," She whispered in horror. "This is all wrong!" Well, even more wrong that before.

Before she knew what she was doing, Nathalie charged through the crowd and raced up the stairs through a rain of rotten food as two soldiers started tying the poor man down.

"_Stop it_!" Nathalie had intended to sound intimidating, but the absolute fear she felt turned her shouts to indignant screeches. "Stop, for goodness' sake! You're _choking_ him, you _barbarians_!"

"Leave, wench," Laughed one of the men, and he actually pushed her away, and then jumped down off the wooden structure to avoid the thrown food.

Nathalie stumbled, and slipped on rotten fruit, landing on her back with a smack. Another horrible wheezing sound drew her back into the present, and she scrambled upright, trying to catch the rotating part of the pillory and loosen the noose on her childhood hero's neck.

Still being pelted by fruit, she managed to grab the rotating part to stabilize the man, get her hands to his neck, and grab both sides of the noose, yanking them apart. The hunchback coughed and gasped, and Nathalie's heart broke when she heard the first person he called for.

"Master!" He cried, voice raw. "Master, please! Help me!"

Of course, the man in the black robe pointedly turned away. Nathalie's blood boiled. What if Quasimodo had died? She resorted to shielding the tied man from the oncoming projectiles, all the while trying desperately to untie the mercilessly tight knots.

"Darn it," Nathalie snarled, trying everything to battle the rope. "I have a banana and an express first aid kit, but no knife."

When the crowd gasped and went silent, and Nathalie sighed in relief, knowing very well who had joined them up on stage. "There she is," She whispered to herself. Of course the crowd would throw fruit a plain peasant girl, but never the 'finest girl in France'.

"Don't be afraid," Esmeralda said, as angelic as Nathalie remembered. "I'm sorry, this wasn't supposed to happen."

The Roma woman knelt down to join Nathalie, cleaning the food off the redhead's face.

"You, gypsy girl! Get down at once!" Frollo's voice rang out, and Nathalie resisted the urge to give the judge a very non-Disney hand guesture.

"Yes, your honour. Just as soon as I free this poor creature," Esmeralda replied.

"I forbid it!"

Nathalie saw the other woman's green eyes fill with anger, and remembered just what made this woman become hero to a little girl from so many years ago. Her dagger cut through the tough ropes like butter.

Knowing the words to Esmeralda's speech off by heart, Nathalie could afford to ignore what was going on and work on helping Quasimodo to his feet, trying to give him a reassuring smile, which was met with a confused, frightened expression.

The Asian girl's smile faded when soldiers surrounded the pillory. Thankfully, everyone seemed to be focused on the heroine, and not little ol' her, especially when Esmeralda did her disappearing smoke trick. "I guess I'm not under arrest," She murmured.

Nathalie jumped when she realised that a soldier was looking straight at her, weapon drawn.

"Or… Maybe I am."

"Come quietly, wench," He grinned, ill intentions plastered on his face. "You're an accessory to crime!"

Nathalie backed away slowly, before wincing when a bit of juice ran into her eye. Clearing it away, she saw mascara on her fingers, so much even though she was far-sighted… That was it! She smeared more of the liquid on her face, took a deep breath, and let out the world's most theatrical, blood curdling scream.

"I'M MELTIIIIIING," She howled hysterically, swaying on the spot and clutching her head with makeup streaming down her face.

The soldier looked absolutely repulsed, and many who were near screamed or shouted in horror. Poor Quasi looked absolutely horrified, himself. However, necessity called, and she had to take advantage of how scared the soldier looked, so she continued.

"Oh, what a world! What a wooooooorld!" Nathalie lurched towards the soldier using her best zombie gait, and the startled man stumbled back and fell off the edge of the pillory.

It was then that Nathalie broke character, as she was unable to hold back a giggle. She paused momentarily to give the startled Quasimodo a reassuring wink to let him know that she was all right.

"I'm fine," The brunette said, before sprinting down the steps and towards the cathedral. Some people eyed her as she ran, but no one attempted to apprehend her.

Nathalie practically dived into the space in a half-open door, before sticking her head out. "Sanctuary!" She shouted, and closed the door behind her.

* * *

A/N: Welp, I'm kind of writing fast at the moment. I'm also busy with studies, so forgive me if I make any spelling errors! Anyway, I'd very much appreciate any reviews, if you can spare the time. Thanks for reading!


	4. No Way Out

Nathalie had been to the Cathedral before, when her brother had first moved into Paris to set up his clinic. Still, the fact that it had stayed very much the same over more than 400 years made her look around in wonder.

None of Frollo's guards had followed her – they were probably distracted by Esmeralda's awesome evasion skills. She wished she could have stuck around to see that, but alas, self-preservation was necessary.

Nathalie leant on a nearby column, sighing and wiping her face with the underside of her apron, coloured smudges of make up staining the cloth. Great, now her freckles were probably visible, too. The woman let out a slightly hysterical, nervous giggle. "Well, that was messed up," She said to herself, her voice echoing in the cathedral. "What am I going to do now?"

"Are you alright, my child? You were not harmed?" The archdeacon himself was watching her with concern.

"Hm? Oh, yeah, I'm alright," Nathalie replied. "Just a bit shaken-"

The large wooden door opened, and Nathalie jumped, and her heart plummeted when she saw a childhood hero, completely miserable and heartbroken.

The bell ringer stood, leaning against the door for a second, before looking up at both her and the archdeacon with wide, tearful eyes.

Nathalie was floored for a number of reasons. Yes, the bellringer was exactly as – though she loathed to admit it even inwardly – physically unattractive as everyone made him out to be, especially in person. Certainly, he was an odd sight for unaccustomed eyes. No, that did not stop her heart from constricting in sympathy for the man in front of her.

This was a person she had looked up to since childhood, and it hurt to see him as devastated as he was.

"H-hey," Nathalie murmured gently, not really knowing what else to say.

He turned, sprinting away from the both of them, and Nathalie almost followed, before stopping herself. It was best not to mess up the story even more, and she supposed that Quasimodo needed some time alone, anyway.

"I feel so bad for that man," Nathalie said, quietly. "He didn't do anything to deserve this. _No one_ deserves humiliation like that."

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and stared into the compassionate eyes of the archdeacon. "I agree," He said sadly. "At the very least, he is always under Notre Dame's protection. You are, too."

Nathalie gave the clergyman a grateful, albeit sad smile. "Thanks, I appreciate it."

* * *

Nathalie wandered around the cathedral aimlessly, playing a game with herself where she would pick all the changes that had happened over the 400-500 years until the future. Though her census file might have said 'Roman Catholic', the brunette wasn't exactly devout, and was the sort to stare fixedly at stained glass windows during mass instead of pray for world peace and whatnot.

She had deliberately avoided lingering at the entrance of the cathedral. It was bad enough that she messed with one of the defining parts of the movie, and something told her that she probably didn't need to mess with anyone else.

Though, that incident with the lassos made her think that maybe, something else was awry. It was about time that Frollo met Esmeralda alone…

That was the only thought it took for the brunette to quickly make her way to the entrance, and ducked behind a column, watching the judge getting far too handsy with Esmeralda for her liking. Though the dark-haired woman managed to elbow the judge and make him let her go, Nathalie was still feeling strong, indignant anger. It was enough to spur her to gather courage and confront the slimy judge.

"Such a clever witch. So typical of your kind to twist the truth, and cloud the mind with unholy thoughts…"

"Didn't the archdeacon ask you to leave?" Nathalie snarled, finally marching out of her hiding place.

The man turned his steely glare to her, and the Asian girl froze, bravado leaving her like air from a half-blown balloon escaping someone's lips. The fact that she was in the cathedral did help somewhat, but still.

"Mind your tongue, _foreigner,_" The judge said, voice dripping with venom. He was regarding her with contempt, and Nathalie visibly shrank back, wondering why she thought this was a good idea.

"Hmph. No matter," The judge said in his slimiest voice, apparently satisfied with the fear he had created and losing interest in Nathalie.

"You've chosen a magnificent prison," He called to Esmeralda as he made to leave. "But it is a prison, nonetheless. Step one foot outside… And you're mine!"

There was a silence, as Nathalie breathed a sigh of relief and wiped sweat from her brow.

"You stood up to him. That was very brave," Remarked Esmeralda, giving her a smile.

Nathalie grinned sheepishly. "Well, let's just say that I'm glad my skirt is brown. Though… If he goes near you again, I might have to set his pretty little dress on fire." The last part was mumbled, but loud enough to be heard.

The Roma lady laughed. "You're the girl with the earrings, aren't you? What's your name?"

"Ah, Nathalie. Nathalie Villeneuve. I'm a tourist, and came to see the festival. Then the thing happened, and now I'm trapped," She said, frowning a little. "Looks like I'll be relaxing in here for a… While…"

As she turned, she realised that the other woman and her goat had dashed away at the reminder that they were trapped, checking one of the doors. Esmeralda slammed the door in frustration.

"Guards, huh?" Nathalie asked.

"Don't worry," The dark-haired woman said. "If Frollo thinks he can keep us here, he's wrong."

"Don't act too rashly, my child," The archdeacon advised nearby. "You created… Quite the stir at the festival. It would be unwise to arouse Frollo's anger further."

'That wasn't the only thing of Frollo's that she aroused,' Nathalie thought grimly, making a face and quietly excusing herself. She received an offhanded farewell from both parties before they continued their discussion on social justice and whatnot. Nathalie was never good with moral discussions.

* * *

The great thing about being in a large cathedral was that everyone was too busy praying or singing inspirational songs about outcasts to pay much attention to you.

Naturally, Nathalie tucked herself up in a secluded bench in the cathedral and dug around with the contents of her shoulder bag, which, mercifully, was able to handle having so many items stuffed in it. Her other clothes were wrinkled, and it probably would take heaps of ironing to restore them. She touched the fabric of her jeans longingly; they were a lot more comfortable than the itchy skirt she was wearing.

Esmeralda's song echoed throughout Notre Dame Cathedral, and Nathalie smiled. She was looking forward to watching the light of the stained glass windows dim when the sun started to set. Nathalie wished that she could see the sun set from the bell tower, but knew to leave the cute moment between Quasimodo and Esmeralda well alone.

She smiled, resting her elbow on one side of the wooden seat and set her chin in her hand, the chorus of the most compassionate song in her ears. The 'monster lines' moment was the cutest. She remembered how Quasi seemed so happy with finally meeting a friend that he didn't have to be cautious around – he needed that. Maybe the lasso thing was just a fluke. Things work out for him in the end…

"Ah, hello! Excuse me - Miss?"

Nathalie jumped, a bit disorientated. Her cheek felt oddly moist, was she drooling? It was a bit darker, and she was no longer bathed in the afternoon light of the stained glass windows. "Wha?"

Phoebus, 'Sun God' and captain of the guard himself, had just witnessed Nathalie snoozing in Notre Dame Cathedral. Brilliant. He raised an eyebrow, coughing behind one hand – was he laughing at her? "I'm, er, looking for the gypsy girl. Don't worry, I only want to talk to her."

Nathalie had an idea, then. Sheepishly, she wiped her cheek. "Oh, yeah, sure. I might have to ask her something, too. Wanna check the bell tower with me? If you've checked everywhere else, she's likely to be up there."

"Ah, well. That's convenient," He said, good-naturedly. "Thank you."

* * *

A/N:

Well, sorry for the delay! I had a bunch of uni work to do.

Thanks for the reviews, I appreciate them very much. :) According to traffic stats, I've reached 100 viewers! So thanks again, I'd love to have some constructive criticism. Thanks for reading!


	5. Why Not?

"So… You're a friend of hers, then?"

Nathalie smiled at the blonde man's question. Of course he'd ask after Esmeralda, the guy was definitely interested in the Roma lady. Nathalie may or may not be a huge fan of the two as a couple. "Kind of. Why?"

Phoebus paused, then shrugged cheerfully. "No reason, just making conversation."

"Well, unfortunately, I only met Esmeralda today, same as you… Wait a second, why are you looking for her?" She asked slyly.

"I want to apologize to her – for trapping her in here," He said, a little more seriously.

She considered this a little. Esmeralda did kind of think that Phoebus tricked her, didn't she? "Well, it's hardly your fault that Judge Buttbrain has a weird obsession with her and her people," The Asian girl said.

The armoured man snorted at the unique insult.

"Still, I'm sure Esmeralda would appreciate the sentiment," Nathalie finished.

"Thank you," He said, looking thoughtful. "I hope she does."

As they finished climbing the stairs and reached the balcony, Nathalie knew what would happen, and stayed well clear of the archway. There was no way that she wanted to be confronted with an angry Quasimodo. Hopefully, he'd be too distracted with Phoebus to worry about little ol' her.

Nathalie was right, for once. As soon as Phoebus pulled Quasimodo up from climbing the cathedral, she jumped to her right when the redhead lunged past her at Phoebus, not even taking notice of her as he drove and the other man back down the stairs. Jeez.

"No soldiers! Sanctuary! Get out!"

The Asian girl was left alone, standing on the balcony and completely forgotten. Apparently, she hadn't been seen. She blinked comically, feeling suddenly awkward, and after waiting a while, peeked down the stairs, slightly concerned until she heard an echoed: "Now… Will you put me down, please?

Heh, that was one of her favourite parts of their interactions. She withdrew, and leaned back on the nearby stonewalls. Nathalie was really going to formally meet him, wasn't she? Conversing with Quasimodo himself. By being here, she probably wasn't going to mess up the plot of the movie too much, was she? Besides, he could use company, she reasoned, with him being all alone in the tower with magical gargoyles that may or may not be real.

Nathalie straightened up when she heard uneven footsteps in the stairway, and she prepared her most polite, friendly smile. The bell-ringer emerged, jumped, and stared at the girl, looking both surprised and uncertain.

"Uh, hey," Nathalie said, giving a little wave. She pointed at the staircase. "I, heh, saw you were busy. Anyway, I'm Nathalie – Nathalie Villeneuve."

Eye contact was somewhat awkward, especially when her eyes wanted to focus on any physical oddities they found – and there were a lot of them. However, it didn't seem like the man cared much, being too startled, apparently. Obviously, he hadn't expected yet another person to arrive.

"Oh, well, H-hello," He said, backing away and making to leave. "It w-was nice meeting you. G-goodbye!" With that, he tried to make his way to the belltower.

"Hey, wait!" Nathalie said, following. "We aren't going to do a chase scene, are we?"

Quasimodo seemed to be intent on avoiding Nathalie, and after climbing a set of wooden stairs and a ladder, she was starting to puff. At high school, she was on the cross country team, but that was seven years ago. The extent of her fitness was jogging, and that was only a hobby that she sometimes picked up when she actually remembered to exercise. If she got a stitch in her side from all of this…

* * *

"Please, I wanted to make sure you were alright," She called, a bit winded after catching up with him. "I was worried."

He turned, at that, though he stood with a wooden column in between them. "I-I'm not injured. Just rope burns, nothing else."

"Well, sure," Nathalie leant on the beam and swung around, peering right into the startled man's eyes a little more intensely than she meant to. "But are you _alright_? In the feelings kinda way?"

Quasimodo looked down at the floor, not willing to meet her eyes. "I will be," he said quietly.

"Oh. Okay," Nathalie said lamely, not knowing what else to say. Why did she ask it in the first place? The answer would have been obvious. She decided to back off from the poor guy and changed the subject. "It's a nice place you've got here. Way too many stairs, though."

"O-oh? Thank you," He said.

The amount of short answers from the bell-ringer made Nathalie pause. Was she being too pushy? She might not be as welcome as she assumed.

"I hope I'm not intruding," She said sheepishly. "Don't let me interrupt anything. You must be tired, after today-"

"N-no, not at all! I just-" His face changed, as if he was remembering something. "I'll be back. Please, wait here." He held his hands up in a 'stay' gesture, and then nimbly climbed up a nearby ladder towards the bells.

"Riiight, you're meant to ring bells at this point, aren't you?" Nathalie murmured softly.

Nathalie smiled as she listened to them. They were soft sounding, and she remembered that it was meant to accompany 'Heaven's Light'. Whoops, and she'd gone and messed that up, too.

The brunette wandered over to the table, admiring the little wooden carvings that stood on there. Even the cathedral itself was faithfully rendered, every piece of intricate architecture accounted for, as far as Nathalie knew. She marvelled at the fact that Quasimodo was self-taught; the extent of Nathalie's artistic abilities were her wonderful stick figures, and maybe a hand-chicken.

"That sounded great," Nathalie said as the bell-ringer returned. She gestured to the table. "You made all of this?"

"Y-yes," He said shyly, a smile on his face. "I enjoy a bit of carpentry,"

"'A _bit_ of carpentry'?" Nathalie said, returning the smile. "This must have taken ages. You could rival a few artists I've seen."

The redhead looked extremely flattered at the remark. "T-Thank you,"

"You must get one heck of a view of Paris from here," She continued. "If you're able to replicate the entire town square this accurately."

"A-a lovely view," He said, happily. "When the sun comes up, I can show you."

"I'd like that," Nathalie said. "Could you show me the bells tomorrow, too? I've always wanted to see them up close."

"I can introduce you now, if you like," He said eagerly. Quasimodo climbed nimbly up another platform. "Over here!"

Nathalie climbed a ladder to follow him, marvelling at how huge they were. "There's a lot," She said, immediately flinching at how unintelligent she sounded.

As the bell ringer called each bell by name, she couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm. Just the way his face lit up and he lost his stutter was enough to have her racing after him as he swung on wooden beams. She admired the different shapes and sizes of the bells. It obviously was a feat of engineering to have such large, bronze instruments strung from nothing but stone and wooden beam, and Nathalie had half a mind to ask about how they built the place. As they stood under Big Marie, Nathalie's stomach made a loud gurgle, which echoed marvellously under the holy bronze instrument.

"Whoops," She murmured sheepishly. "Dinner time for me, I think. How about you?"

Quasimodo looked somewhat startled at the question. "O-oh, yes, I should think so. Please, follow me."

Before she could answer, he made his way back down to the table below, so Nathalie complied, taking the more conventional way down the ladders. It wasn't her intention to barge in and intrude on his dinner…

"I-I'm sorry," the Quasimodo said, as Nathalie approached. The man went through a nearby cupboard and brought wooden cutlery and a few measly pieces of food to his table with quick, rehearsed precision. "I don't have much… W-would you like some bread? Fruit?"

"Hey, it's fine," Nathalie reassured him, digging into her bag and withdrawing her plastic lunch box. "If you don't have enough for yourself, I can manage. I'm a tourist; I've got some stuff of my own."

He stared curiously at the lunch box, and Nathalie realised her mistake. Plastic wasn't a thing in history, wasn't it? But there it was, in all its neon-yellow glory.

"Oh, it's a lunch box," Nathalie explained sheepishly. "It's got all my food in it and stuff, and keeps it all cool for me."

"I… see…" The bell ringer said slowly, apparently trying not to stare at it for too long. "That's some very bright paint."

"Yeah, it's a thing that we have back at my homeland," Nathalie said, thoughts of the countryside reappearing in her mind. How was she going to get back home?

Quasimodo looked interested, as though he was going to ask a question.

"Anyway," Nathalie said quickly, trying to change the subject again and popping open the box. "We can share, if you like. The food should still be good." The ice pack still was partially frozen, so nothing could have gone off.

"Oh! I-I couldn't take your food," The unfamiliar scent of mayonnaise made him stare at the food in her hand. "What is that?"

"That," She said, dividing the sandwich into its two triangular halves and squinting at its filling. "Is a very good question. I have no idea..."

The redhead gave her a bemused look, and Nathalie shrugged. "My brother packed these, and his tastes are a bit different to mine, so…" She took a bite. "Ooh, it's a chicken salad sandwich. Not bad!"

Between mouthfuls, Nathalie remembered to hold a piece of the sandwich out to him. "I know it might be weird, since it's new food and all," She said after chewing. "But it might beat bread and an apple! If you don't like it, I can have it, so no pressure."

To her surprise, the man looked … touched. "Thank you," He said gently, and took it, giving it a sceptical stare before tentatively biting down. His eyes widened.

"It's good," He remarked. "I-I've never eaten anything like it."

Oh God, now he was going to ask about where she was from, wasn't he? Nathalie busied herself with finishing the rest of her sandwich, mind whirring. Going by estimation, she was probably the fourth or fifth person that Quasimodo had the luck of having a decent conversation with. She doubted that 'Oh, and you're a fictional character and I'm from the 21st century' would go down well.

Nathalie latched onto the only subject she could think of that would distract him. "So… Esmeralda's gone and escaped without me, I'm guessing?"

The effect was instantaneous. His expression took on a more wistful tone, and it seemed as though all his curiosity was forgotten at the mention of Esmeralda.

Nathalie felt an odd stab of negative emotion, and decided that it must've been because of how she knew that Esmeralda was going to be with Phoebus, and of Quasimodo's inevitable heartbreak. Yes, that must've been it.

"Yes, she has gone home," Quasimodo replied, a smile on his face as he unconsciously touched the cheek that Esmeralda had kissed.

Nathalie noticed the move, feeling the twinge again. He really was smitten, wasn't he?

"A-are you staying with her?" The bell ringer asked, looking a bit concerned once his mind cleared. "I c-can help you escape as well, if you like."

"No, we're only acquaintances," Nathalie said. "I'm fine staying here, and I was just her brief partner in crime, haha! Nothing says solidarity like evading the law together!"

"I… Thank you," The man said softly. "For helping me earlier. You saved my life,"

Nathalie was taken aback by this. Did she save his life? Dear Lord, that was a thought, and not exactly a comforting one. If the crowd was thicker, or she was a moment too late, that whole thing would have ended in disaster.

"You're welcome," She replied quietly, trying not to dwell on the thought, and then paused for a moment. "I'm sorry I scared you with my little… performance. In my solemn defence, it worked like a charm."

The man blinked, and to Nathalie's delight, a smile crept back into his face. "O-oh, I remember. I thought you really were melting, though, looking back, I suppose I was silly to think that."

"Well, don't worry, I'm a silly person," Nathalie chuckled, and then yawned, resting her head on her arms. The feeling of a full stomach made her feel delightfully groggy. "A tired, silly person that seems to get in trouble a lot."

Quasimodo had looked thoughtful as he finished his meal, and gathered up the wooden plates on the table while Nathalie watched him through half-lidded eyes.

"If you need a place to stay overnight," The man said, after thinking a bit to himself. "Then you're welcome here. I have no bed, and it gets cold, but if you have nowhere else-"

He was cut off by a soft snore, and he turned around. Nathalie was fast asleep, crumbs on her cheek, mouth slightly open and her bright 'lunch box' laying open next to her. Needless to say, Quasimodo had no idea how to react to this. Was she comfortable? What if she caught a chill?

The bell ringer glanced at Laverne, giving her a look of confusion, silently asking her: 'What do I do?'

The stone gargoyle gestured to his cloak, hanging on a nearby beam.

The man nodded, and gingerly draped it over the young woman's shoulders. Her face, freckled and with curiously foreign features that were neither Parisian and gypsy, broke out into a sleepy smile. The bell ringer blinked. Nathalie must have indeed come a long way from wherever her homeland lay, if the journey made her so tired that she'd dare feel so at ease in a monster's presence.

Then again, she was rather… Odd. Not rude, and not confrontational, but carried an odd aloof aura that contrasted with her bouts of sheepishness. He at first thought that her unease was nervousness around him, but she seemed only nervous when her origins were talked about. He'd have to ask about it in the morning, but the thought of learning about far away places excited him.

Nathalie certainly didn't seem to mind his deformities, either. Like Esmeralda, she didn't seem to mind his appearance too much, or comment on it. True, there were lingering glances, and she sometimes seemed uncomfortable during conversation, but he couldn't help but feel a bit of hope. Perhaps, though daring as the thought was, he had found himself yet another friend.

* * *

Some time later, Quasimodo sat on a stool, quietly carving a block of wood into the shape of Esmeralda. He glanced over at the sleeping form of the woman across the room. Even with the bells chiming on the hour, she moved little, and didn't seem to wake.

He glanced back lovingly at the half-finished carving in his hands, carving the arms of the Esmeralda figurine.

"_So many times out there, I've watched a happy pair_

_of lovers walking in the night…"_

As his song continued, Nathalie dreamed of a soft, warm voice, and of happy childhood memories long forgotten. Though woken once by the sound of bells, she merely sleepily adjusted her position and slept lengthwise on the wooden bench, this time sleeping dreamlessly.

* * *

_A/N:_

_Whew. So many new reviews, favourites and follows! Thank you so much, guys! I made this chapter extra long, I was so excited. Please forgive any spelling errors or anything in this chappie, it's currently 1:45am, haha._

_I'm sorry that the chapter's so dialogue-heavy, since dialogue has always been my weak point. Still, I enjoy writing interactions between these two very different characters._

_[Pssst! ;) Whoever knows the real reason why Quasi didn't see Nathalie at the staircase gets a cookie.]_


	6. Where Do I Go From Here?

_"__**You stupid, stupid girl."**_

_Nathalie frowned. She was enjoying the nothingness of sleep, and she definitely did not want to return to consciousness just yet, due to the hard surface she was sleeping on and the weird circumstances she would have to wake up to._

**_"Do you know how much of reality you've messed up? That door was locked for a reason."_**

_That voice was familiar to her and, logic and manners hampered by her dreaming state, she talked back to the cranky librarian she had seen before without question. "Yeah, well, get a better lock next time. Better yet, get a better attitude."_

**_"You're the one that broke into- Never mind. I'm trying to help you."_**

_"How?" Nathalie asked. "By calling me names?"_

**_"I can't have someone dying on my watch! Look, I was the one that was supposed to watch The Door, I'm responsible for you getting in."_**_ There was a sigh. _

**_"Your presence has made… holes in the story. Things that didn't go wrong – did. It's the story trying to adjust to your presence; I'm sure you've noticed."_**

_"The lassos…" Nathalie said in a miraculous moment of understanding. Horror filled her. "How many 'holes'? What else will go wrong?"_

_The dream changed. It was less clouded, and the bench below her felt more uncomfortable. She could hear the faint sound of bells._

**_"I can't talk to you when you're fully conscious. Stop waking up!"_**_ The voice snapped, though there was a note of worry to his voice._

_"Then stop freaking me out!" Nathalie replied indignantly._

_**"If things go wrong, that'll be it! If he wins, Frollo will not hesitate to **__**kill**__** you! This isn't some fairy tale, you stupid girl!"**_

_"Y-__You're__ a stupid girl!" She countered childishly, starting to panic._

**_"Do whatever you can to keep the story going right, and fix any mistakes- If… Yo… Wan…"_**

_The voice started to fade, and Nathalie frowned. She lunged forward to hear better, and then felt herself falling._

* * *

Nathalie rolled off the bench and landed face first onto the wooden floor, making a spectacularly loud 'whack' upon impact.

"O-oh! Are you alright?" A soft voice exclaimed. Quick, though uneven footsteps were heard, and Nathalie felt a large, gentle hand on her shoulder.

The young woman opened her eyes. "You have lovely floorboards…" She murmured weakly, and then felt herself being turned over and propped up.

"Y-you're not hurt, are you?" Quasimodo asked.

Nathalie found herself face-to-face with a fictional character once more, first thing in the morning, no less. If one thought that she was odd by default, they obviously hadn't seen her half-awake. She was the exact opposite of grumpy after just waking up; instead, she'd usually be cheery to the point of an almost high.

"Oh. G'morning, handsome," She giggled, grinning lopsidedly and not knowing how else to react to the situation.

At that statement, the man's face filled with concern and worry as he jumped to a conclusion. "Oh no, you've hit your head!" He lamented.

"No, I haven't, M' fine- Ack! Quasi! I'm fine!" Nathalie was definitely not used to being picked up by fussing bell ringers, especially this early in the morning.

"If-if I get you to the archdeacon, he can check if you're alright, and then get you some medicine, or-"

Thanks to Quasimodo's height (well, lack thereof), Nathalie managed to put her feet on the ground and gently stand, pushing out of the man's arms. At least she was fully awake.

"Hey, I'm fine," Nathalie said, firmly, but in a good-humored tone. "There'll be no need for medicine. I was just greeting you, that's all."

He seemed to deflate, looking awkward. "Oh."

Nathalie mirrored his emotions, since both felt significant embarrassment. They stood in silence for a moment, unsure.

"So… um…" The young woman coughed into her hand. "Sorry for barging into your home, shoving a sandwich on your face and passing out on your table. Usually I don't act like that without the influence of alcohol."

Such kid friendly sentence in a Disney universe, Nathalie.

An unexpected chuckle left the man's lips, and even he looked a bit surprised at it. "No it's alright. A-after what you've done for me, you're welcome here." A thought entered his mind, and he looked nervous again. "Though, my master wouldn't be happy with you talking to me…"

Nathalie shook her head, smiling. "That guy's never happy. Anyway, I can hide under the table or somewhere if he pops in unexpectedly. Well, if he doesn't smell me here…"

Indeed, she smelled quite bad from being pelted with rotten vegetables, and had no opportunity to clean herself up. Her bag could have used an emptying, judging by the slight odor of banana. Ice packs could only do so much.

"If you need to use a pail of water, I have a few," He offered. "I can leave you to wash, I have chores that I can attend to before breakfast."

* * *

Though the water managed to get the cabbage out of her hair and the stains from her apron, Nathalie found herself praising The Lord for cheap deodorant. The first thing she'd do when she got home was have the world's most warm, steamy shower.

Still, at least there wasn't rotten carrot down the back of her dress anymore.

It was only when Nathalie started to shuffle through her shoulder bag again when the thought occurred to her: how was she going to get home? Had the door unlocked so that she could finally enter? Even if it did, there was no way she'd get there safely until the story finished, since apparently she was an 'accessory to crime', and would probably get arrested. Well, maybe. Did Frollo even care about capturing her? Signs might have pointed to no, though she was really regretting confronting him yesterday.

Her dream also troubled her. Apparently, things would start going wrong in the story, and it probably her fault. If she weren't there, then the whole near strangulation thing that happened to Quasimodo wouldn't have happened. Wasn't the pillory scene bad enough without a near death experience? Not to mention a plethora of other things that could go wrong – this movie wasn't exactly a pretty, fairy-tale wonderland of talking animals.

'Fix any mistakes', the voice had told Nathalie. But she _was_ the mistake.

Regret and self-pity filled the young woman. "What possessed me to break into the archives like a lunatic?" She asked the wooden beams of the bell tower. The young woman sat at the table, staring skywards as if in prayer. "What possessed me to go to Paris in the first place? I should have just stayed home."

Funnily enough, there was no reply.

"I… I just wanted to find my family..."

Nathalie looked at the little wooden replica of Paris, squinting a little thanks to her eyeseight. It was quite the situation she was in, she thought idly, trying to quell the panic rising as the sheer impossibility of her problem hit her. Her attention fixed on the little figure of the hunch back, dismally under-detailed in comparison with all the other figures. The movie would end when the bad guy died and everyone realised that they should treat Quasi like the human being he is, right? Such a simple Aesop, but it'd take a whole 90 minutes of movie for everyone to figure it out.

"_We know the truth, he's just like you and me,_

_why can't you see?_

_Our differences are just as key_

_as similarities._

_So quick to judge, so slow to love._

_Why can't you understand?_

_We're all the same in the end_…"

Nathalie continued her soft song, to the roof – or was it to the heavens? The young woman didn't know. It wasn't exactly a song of prayer, but more of a song of self-righteous lamentation. She felt sadness about Quasi's situation, though her main drive was her own problem.

Still, she had to hand it to the Disneyverse. Singing her feelings helped, in a weird way, and the cathedral had an almost supernatural way of making distressed people feel like someone's listening – as though someone cared, and wasn't judging her.

Weird.

The song concluded, and she sighed, resting her chin in her palm. Her gaze shifted to the shards of stained glass clink together in its little hanging mobile. At least she had something pretty to look at while she moped like a child.

The door to the balcony opened, and Nathalie jumped a little, before relaxing when she saw that it was Quasimodo, and not a certain judge.

"Hey," She said, giving him a smile to mask the glumness she was feeling before. "Did your chores go alright?"

"Oh-yes," He said, wringing his hands and looking down. The bell ringer really didn't want to admit to listening to Nathalie's song from the balcony. It wasn't like he could help it - noise carried from the bell tower, since that is what it was designed for. Still, he felt as though he was listening to something private. "You aren't injured from before?"

"Nope," Nathalie said cheerfully, digging into her bag to try in vain to shake off the glumness she was feeling, and not knowing how to hide it from the man in front of her. "I'm fully awake and fit as anything, though a bit hungry."

She opened the wrapper of one of her snacks and handed it to him, being careful not to show the plastic material too much. That might raise a few questions. "Want some raisins? They're all I have left."

If in doubt, shove food at him. That seemed to work before, anyway.

Funnily enough, Quasi smiled at the mention of familiar food. He had a fondness for grapes, and had only tried dried fruit once, and the taste left a positive memory. "W-we can share. I still have some bread from yesterday."

"Sounds like a plan," Nathalie declared, smiling back. "How about we have breakfast near the view you wanted to show me?"

The man hesitated. The idea wasn't something he was used to – his master had always said that eating unseated without reverence was barbaric. Then again, Nathalie didn't exactly display social graces at their evening meal. Perhaps her homeland had different customs? "Well, I suppose… Just this once."

* * *

_A/N: I'm so sorry that it's so short! D: Exams are really hard on me at the moment. Don't worry though, I have a free day tomorrow, and might even post yet another chapter within the next one to two days._

_Anyway, thanks for the continued support, and I hope you all enjoyed the (tiny little) chapter! The next one will probably be just dialogue as these two get to know each other a little bit more. After that, we'll get back to the main story. uvu_

_Also, the song is the lyrical version 'Norman's Walk' by Jon Brion. I highly recommend Paranorman, it's a beautiful movie._


	7. Strangers Like Me

The view from the bell tower was more breathtaking without the television screen in between one's eyes. Not only that, but apparently, they were lucky enough to arrive in the middle of the sunrise. Nathalie almost dropped her loaf of bread, only to stumble and gather it up in her arms in the last second.

"Wow," She said, reverence in her voice. "You've seen this masterpiece every day?"

"Yes," He said, smiling a little sadly. "Since I can remember…"

Nathalie inwardly flinched. Oh yeah, just remind him that he's been imprisoned here since forever, why don't you?

She coughed into her hand. "That's an amazing view of this city… It's almost tempting me to live here."

Though there was the whole 'job' thing she had back home. As well as the necessities such as plumbing, civil rights, modern medicine, and whatnot. It may be a Disney-based place, but there were still some things that the 15th century just couldn't provide.

"Is… Is Paris very different from your homeland?" Quasi asked tentatively, trying not to let on how curious he was.

"Well, yeah. Let's just say…" Nathalie struggled to find the words. "Back at my hometown, there are a few less people, and a lot more trees and huge, grassy fields. The air tastes different, and there's a little less noise. The sun shines a lot, there are birds singing, flowers everywhere. All the nature around - you feel like you belong, everything feels peaceful, and _alive_." Also, technology, junk food and plumbing. Those were the main things. Discreetly, Nathalie turned to check if Quasi had lost interest, and instead saw him staring straight ahead, as if trying to picture it.

Nathalie felt uncomfortable going on about it. She knew the guy was curious, but she felt as though she was bragging, honestly. Why go on about places that the poor guy thinks he'll never see?

Quasimodo's expression was wistful. "Is it far away?" He asked, sounding strangely mystified and… Sad.

She bit her lip. "It's a bit of a journey, in the East."

It felt like the worst possible sin to lie to such a sweet person, though wasn't a lie, technically. She was indeed from the East – East of Paris, that was, all the way East to the French country town of _Pont-à-Mousson. _It was a 3-hour's drive, really, but that was big by historical standards, right? Besides, she had spent around 47 euros on fuel, not counting the road tolls, and that was far too expensive for her liking.

The man glanced behind them, to the direction she was referring to. "Then… When your home is a place like that, why travel here?"

Nathalie blinked, not expecting the question. "Well, I came here to find someone. You see, I'm half Parisian, and was abandoned as a baby. I want to find my family somewhere here in Paris. It's a long shot, and my chances don't look good, but… Yeah."

Besides, archives and paperwork made such a task easier in the 21st century.

"You were abandoned?" He asked, frowning. "How can it be, when you mentioned a brother?"

"Adopted brother," She said solemnly. "His father – my adopted father, took me in when I was thirteen, and I became a part of his family. I don't know about my real father, but I heard that my mother might be in Paris. So, I thought it might be smart to find her. To find out… Why."

Quasimodo looked down dismally at his own breakfast. "Oh. I was abandoned, too."

Nathalie smiled sadly at him. "So, that's one thing we have in common."

"Maybe," He said, almost bitterly, giving a little laugh to cover it up. "I know exactly why I was abandoned."

The Asian girl winced. Oh great. "You know for sure, huh?" She asked noncommittally.

"Well look at me," He said lightly – too lightly for such a depressing subject. "I wouldn't exactly blame my mother. I'm a monster, you know."

Well, time to get her debate hat on. Like hell she'd let this guy talk about himself like that. "Is that fact, or what you've been told?"

"Of course it's true." He said, looking up at her like she had grown two heads.

"That's what your master has told you?"

"…Yes."

"And absolutely no one has told you otherwise? No one at all?"

"Well… Th-there was… Esmeralda."

"Ah yes, the finest girl in all of France, and quite possibly the most saint like. Also, a gypsy. Your master says terrible things about her and her people. But he isn't right about those things, is he?"

"Esmeralda is kind. She's good," He murmured, almost to himself.

"Exactly! Jeez, and still, your master has gone and said otherwise. I wonder how many other things he has said that might be wrong? Think about it." Nathalie gave him a meaningful look.

Quasimodo couldn't meet her eyes.

"…He might be wrong about way more than just the 'monster thing'," Nathalie said quietly, and almost proceeded to punch herself there and then.

What a stupid move! 'Oh hi, Quasimodo! Can I barge into your home, eat your food, and basically make an ass of myself? Oh, and your entire life may or may not be a lie!'

She really couldn't think straight in the mornings.

The man visibly shuddered and closed his eyes, gripping his loaf of bread. "C-can you please stop talking like that? _Please_?"

Nathalie had gone way too far. Way, way too far. She was aiming for the metaphorical soccer goal and ended up kicking the metaphorical ball right into the metaphorical commentary booth, probably hitting a metaphorical hit radio announcer right in his metaphorical crotch.

Nathalie had neither the angelic presence nor the tact of Esmeralda, and unlike the Roma lady, wasn't close enough to Quasi to push him that hard.

"I'm sorry," She said, feeling tempted to throw herself off the bell tower there and then for overstepping her boundaries. "That was too personal. I'm so, so sorry."

The man beside her took a deep breath. "It's alright. Just…"

"How am I supposed to believe these things when everything I've been taught says otherwise? Even my name means 'half-formed'." He said, quietly.

Nathalie was going to say that Frollo was the one that called him that, but stopped herself. It was useless to push the 'wake up and smell Frollo's douchebaggery' card if it upset him that much.

"Isn't that a Christian holiday?" She asked, looking thoughtful.

Quasimodo paused, confused. "What?"

"Quasimodo. That's like - isn't it … Quasimodo Sunday, or something? Is it a holiday? Or… Eh, I don't have extensive knowledge of Christian traditions, but I'm pretty sure that's a thing in the Church."

Well, according to Victor Hugo's book, anyway, and Wikipedia. She may or may not have done research about it when she was a teenager, and was at that time interested in the book more than the movie.

"I… Yes?" He said, though it sounded more like a question.

"Then that's another thing we have in common – our names!" The Asian girl declared cheerfully.

There was a silence, in which Quasimodo stared at her in confusion, waiting for her to clarify.

"See, my name's Nathalie – I was named after the day I was… er… given up," She said, sheepishly, before brightening again. "You know, _natale domini_ – Christmas Day!"

Nathalie crossed her arms, and nodded sagely, a grin on her face as she stated her conclusion. "Both of our names mean something in the Christian calendar."

It was then that Quasimodo smiled a big, genuine smile, and everything in Nathalie's world seemed to be a bit brighter.

* * *

_A/N: So, newbornphanatic, if you like dialogue, then here's a whole chunk of it, haha._

_This was originally part of the other chapter, but it went on for longer than I intended, so whoops! At least there was more interaction between these two. I'm itching to try some romance, but Quasi has to get over his romantic feelings towards Esme first. (Poor Quasi... *cough*butPhoebusreallyismadeforEsmeraldaandtheyar eadorabletogether*cough*.) _

_Also, I have a little headcanon that Quasi has brilliant memory when it comes to remembering the things people say. Years of walking on eggshells with Frollo as a caretaker means that the guy grew up mentally filing away little things Frollo has said, and uses it to avoid upsetting his master. You know, remembering things that would set Frollo off, or things that would distract him. It's a survival mechanism. Hence, he remembered stuff that Nathalie said offhandedly in a conversation they had the other night._

_Anyway, sorry for rambling, and thanks for the reviews! You guys are amazing. uvu_


	8. Friend Like Me

_A/N: Just to let you guys know, I've done a bit of editing and revision here and there in previous chapters, as I tweaked the story a bit. Nothing major, just a few details. So, if you're into knowing every little single hint and foreshadowing, then you might want to re-read, but if you don't, then it won't affect anything. Also, I added mention of the gargoyles in chapter five, just because *cough*iforgot*cough*. You don't need to go back if you're not as obsessed with detail as I am. uvu_

* * *

"It's so nice that our boy has another friend," Gushed Laverne as she and her companions eavesdropped on the exchange. They had a slightly larger cone, and all three could hear the conversation clearer.

"Yeah, well, call me when she has a good-lookin' goat sidekick like the other one," Hugo said dismissively.

Victor, the tallest of the gargoyle trio, was silent, seemingly deep in thought.

"Hey, Victor? What's with the face?"

The aforementioned gargoyle turned away from Hugo's quizzical look, before speaking up.

"Don't you find some things about that Eastern girl… Odd?"

This made Laverne stop for a second. "Whatta ya mean?"

"How is it that she has such a fluent grasp on French, for example, when she is obviously foreign? Why does she neglect to say the name of her specific hometown? In addition, which young girl in her right mind would go looking for one specific person in the largest city in France, _unescorted_?"

Both of the other stone entities glanced at each other, but Victor seemed to be on a roll.

"Finally," He concluded. "How did she know that her mother was Parisian if she says she was abandoned by her parents as an infant?"

There was a silence.

"Always the downer, aren't ya?" Hugo said, dryly.

"I'm sure if she meant our Quasi harm, she woulda done something by now," Laverne mused, though she herself looked slightly troubled.

"I'm not suggesting that she has ill intentions," The tall gargoyle said quickly. "However, there's something else - something odd - happening here…"

* * *

It was mid-morning, and Nathalie sat at the table, peering at Quasi while he worked on another wooden carving. They were in a sort of comfortable silence, both growing used to each other's company. At first, Nathalie had worried that she would annoy him by staring at him working, but he had reassured her that he didn't mind.

In fact, he kind of liked the attention, for once. He could finally display the skills he had developed himself over the years, and even show them in action. It helped that his audience was so rapt, as well. However, a thought had been gnawing at the back of his mind…

The bell ringer looked across to the young woman watching him.

"Nathalie?" He asked tentatively.

"Hm?" She blinked, startled out of her trance. Watching his hands carve so expertly made her oddly calm.

"Why do you look at things like that?"

"Like what?" The Asian girl asked curiously.

"When you look at things, you narrow your eyes and lean backwards." He looked worried. "Is your head bothering you?"

Nathalie giggled. "I told you that I didn't hit my head - I'm always this brash and tactless," She joked.

Quasi frowned softly. He didn't like the idea of her insulting herself, even in jest.

"…Er, anyway. I'm far-sighted," Nathalie continued, making a mental note to try and lay off on the self-depreciating humor. She gestured to demonstrate. "Ever since I can remember, my eyes find it hard to see fine details up close, so I kind of have to try and see it by squinting and stuff. Usually, I don't even realize I'm doing it."

"Oh," He said, looking back at the almost-finished carving in his hand. Was that the reason that she was so friendly towards him? Because she couldn't see how hideous he really was?

"I have glasses that help me see, and I should be wearing them, but I usually forget," She said sheepishly.

'_…because I don't like the way they look on me and I'm too cheap to buy contacts._' That was how the sentence was supposed to end. It probably wasn't the best idea to express that sort of sentiment in that moment – she didn't want to remind him of his own self-loathing.

Heck, why not wear them? She already had her makeup gone, so why bother with self presentation when no one but a good friend would see her? That would mean she could see the carvings better.

"I should wear them – I must be distracting you by bobbing my head like a bird."

"N-no, you don't need to-," Quasimodo stammered, fearing rejection as soon as she clearly saw what he looked like. He didn't realize that her lack of sight was only limited to small, close details.

Nathalie was already digging into her bag, careful to avoid showing any of its contents. "Ah, here we are," She declared, opening the case and slipping them on.

The Asian girl blinked owlishly, as the table immediately in front of her came into focus. She then glanced at the small carving in his hand.

"Hey, that's me!" She said, a delighted smile spreading across her face as she cupped her cheeks in her hands and let out an 'awww' sound. "I've even got my lit' headband on. That's so impressive!"

"O-oh, thank you, I-I," He tried to shrink back on his stool - anything to delay the upcoming gasp of disgust he was expecting.

"Hey, Quasi? What's wrong?" The brunette asked, she looked straight at him and noticed something.

Nathalie tilted her head, frowning at how uncomfortable the guy looked. Surely, he wasn't feeling self-conscious? Her eyesight wasn't that bad – she knew what he looked like. Well, vaguely, through watching the movie and seeing him clearer when he was standing more than a meter away.

He looked up at her, searching for any sign of rejection. There was none – no disgust in her angular brown eyes, and no snarl on her olive, freckled face. Things hadn't changed.

"I-it's nothing," He lied, changing the subject. "It was nothing. You really like the carving?"

"Ha, of course I do," Nathalie answered, deciding to let the subject slide. "The lil' apron and everything. It's adorable!"

Quasimodo smiled, flattered. "Oh, could you please hand me the paint next to you? I think I've finished the basic shape of the carving."

"Sure, here you go," She said cheerfully.

If she thought watching carving was relaxing, then the painting was plain soothing. Something about the precise movements of an artisan's hands was satisfying to watch. Within a few minutes, the mini-Nathalie had her blue apron. With a few quick strokes of a brush, the figurine had a tiny, closed-eyed smile, and a few dots showed little freckles. Then, surprisingly, little glasses.

Well, that was that. If it looked that cute on the figurine, then it'd definitely look cute in real life. Her glasses were staying, from now on.

Suddenly, a smell reached Nathalie's nostrils, and she sniffed.

"Um, Quasi… Do you smell smoke?"

* * *

From the vantage point of the bell tower, Frollo's rampage was extremely easy to track. There was a visible trail of destruction going from street to street, and Nathalie stood at the top of the tower and watched in both horror and fascination. There was something terrifying about the scene. One man and his narcissism and lust had turned an entire capital city to ruin. So many innocent lives would be affected all on this day, and all because of a single douchebag.

At the sound of familiar footsteps, Nathalie was brought out of her reverie.

"I-I brought you an apple, if you're hungry," Quasimodo said tentatively.

"Thanks," Nathalie said, taking the offered fruit.

They stood in silence, until another house in the distance burst into flames.

"Hell is empty, and all the devils are here," Nathalie whispered. Her inner patriot chastised her for quoting Shakespeare, an English poet, in such a moment – she was French, for goodness' sake. Still, the phrase was very much relevant.

Quasi blinked at that, looking at the surprisingly somber Nathalie and back at the blazing scene before them. He didn't know which was more disturbing – the statement she had said, or the scene unfolding before them.

"Um, hey," Nathalie said, not being able to watch any longer. "I might go down to the cathedral for a while. The smell of smoke is getting to me, and I might go… pray, or something. Maybe it might actually help."

* * *

_A/N: (again...)_

_Dear Lord, these two never shut up! OTL I keep trying to press on with the story, but they end up having deep conversations all the time. Don't worry, the next chapter will come up tomorrow afternoon at the latest, and we'll be getting on with things then._

_Anyway, I actually wrote a lot this week, instead of studying, so expect a lot of chapters posted in quick succession! Also, gargoyles. Nathalie can't see them, and that's why I haven't been writing them in, since I keep forgetting them. But here they are, anyway, like 'em or not._

_Thanks for the reviews everyone, it means a lot! You are all amazing and wonderful and I love you. 3_


	9. Something There

The great cathedral was largely unoccupied. Kneeling at the pews, it occurred to Nathalie that she hadn't prayed for about three years. She used to, when she was little, thanks to going to a catholic school.

Little Nathalie almost obsessively yearned for her mystery parents. As a snot-nosed kid, she had held steadfast to the belief that her parents would come and take her back. Her insistence and certainty got so annoying that one of her old caretakers had snapped, and said that _no one_ wanted her, and that no one ever would.

She supposed it had affected her faith, in a weird way. Even as an adult, she didn't care to attend mass, or whatnot, and wasn't a believer that a failure to attend mass would lead to her burning in hell.

Still, there she knelt, meekly, though praying with all her heart that the 'holes' in the story hadn't come into effect, and that Esmeralda and Phoebus lived as the original story decreed. Any little thing could go wrong, and the delicate situation could turn sour quicker than you could say 'Lord, hear our prayer'.

If it did, it would very well be all her fault.

'_Hey, I know you might be busy at the moment_,' She prayed. '_But please, at least send me a sign that they're both still alive_.'

A familiar voice echoed in the cathedral. "Oh, Nathalie! Thank goodness."

'_Oh. That was fast_.'

There she was – Esmeralda, looking exhausted as she supported an injured Phoebus with the help of another unknown large Roma man. Djali the goat was close behind.

"Whoa, what happened to Phoebus?" Nathalie said, standing abruptly and deciding that she should act a little surprised.

"He's been injured by an arrow, after disobeying Frollo's orders to murder a family," The raven-haired woman said breathlessly, not even questioning how Nathalie new him. "We need to hide him – quickly."

Nathalie nodded, stunned at how real the situation was. This wasn't just some scene in a movie – there was a guy bleeding out right in front of her. Sure, she had seen injured people in Jacques' medical practice, but nothing quite so hardcore.

"Yeah, sure," She said. "Here, let me - you look tired."

"Thank you," The Roma woman said, gratefully. "We should get to the bell tower – I have a friend there that can help us."

* * *

Damn it, the man was _heavy_. Dragging a tall, muscular soldier around was no easy feat, that was for sure. Nathalie was stunned that Esmeralda managed to take him here, from all the way from the outskirts of the town. Then again, the Asian girl was a pampered little soul from the 21st century – not a hardened, physically fit street performer.

"How – many – stairs?" She panted.

"Just a few more," Esmeralda encouraged. The Roma woman ducked down and joined her, and both of them ended up supporting the injured man's left side.

As they continued, Nathalie had to admit – this was kind of awkward. Also, exhausting. She praised the lords that B.O. didn't appear to be too much of a thing here. Who needs historical accuracy when you have Disney Magic™?

Oh God. Nathalie hadn't brushed her teeth in over a day. Ew.

"Quasi? Quasimodo!"

Nathalie jumped as the door opened. Oh, they were finally at the top of the staircase. Finally – she was itching to just dump the guy on that pile of sheets (Or… whatever it was. Eh.) already. Her limit was jogging and the occasional cross-country run.

"Esmeralda? Esmeralda, you're alright! I new you'd come back!"

The bell ringer embraced Esme, and Nathalie felt that pang again. The guy was obviously very much into the Roma lady; she could see it in his sincere expression.

Damn.

Esmeralda, meanwhile, looked exhausted. At first, Nathalie thought it was exhaustion from the journey. Hey, who wouldn't be tired after all of that? But Nathalie saw it now. Esmeralda was sick with worry for Phoebus.

_Damn._

"You've done so much for me already, my friend. But I musk as your help one more time."

"Yes," He said, sincerely. "Anything."

"This is Phoebus. He's wounded, and a fugitive like me. He can't go on much longer – I knew he'd be safe here. Please, can you hide him?"

"…This way."

Unbeknownst to both Quasi and Nathalie, both wore identical expressions borne of heartbreak, both for different reasons.

The Asian girl kept inwardly repeating the mantra that it was because she knew that the bell ringer was about to experience his first heartbreak. Yes. That was why she was feeling so sad at that point. Any other reason would be selfish.

After setting the ex-soldier down, Nathalie quickly moved away, giving the two lovebirds some privacy. She turned to see Quasimodo, who was watching the object of his affections falling for another man.

"Hey," Nathalie whispered. He didn't respond, frozen, staring at what was unfolding before him. It was as though he didn't even see her there. The Asian girl hesitantly reached out to touch his shoulder, then stopped herself, letting her arm fall limply back to her side.

Her limp hand curled into a fist, and she walked away.

**Damn.**

* * *

_A/N:_

_Phew, I'm belting these out fast! Sorry about my short chapters and rapid publishing, but next week, I don't know if I'll have time to update much at all. :(_

_At least we're finally moving on with the plot! (Glares at a certain two characters). Also, Nathalie hasn't quite figured out her feelings yet, poor little thing._

_Hope you guys enjoyed! :)_


	10. Under the Sea - um, Table? (Shut up)

There was no time to dwell on any confusing feelings Nathalie had, or the heartbreaking scene happening a few paces away. She knew Frollo was going to arrive soon, and she had to make sure that everything went according to plan. But could she - would she stick around?

Nathalie spotted her shoulder bag on the table, and haphazardly stuffed it behind a nearby column. There was no way the Judge was getting his hands on her bag – or any other evidence that she was here, for that matter. Quasi would be in enough trouble already.

A goat's bleat sent chills down her spine. Should she stay, or should she go? She stood, rooted to the spot by indecision and panic.

"Frollo's coming! You must leave, quick, follow me! Go down the South Tower steps."

Nathalie still stood there, like an idiot. God, what could she do? She spied Phoebus laying on the bedroll (maybe that was the word for it?). Her impulses fired through her brain at millions of miles per hour, and she couldn't _think_.

* * *

"Be careful, my friend," Esmeralda said, albeit wearily. "Promise you won't let anything happen to him."

The bell ringer bowed his head. "I promise."

"Thank you," She whispered with sincerity.

With that, Esmeralda left once more, and Quasimodo stared after her, standing alone.

* * *

Nathalie meanwhile, wasn't in a good way.

There was no time to think. '_Panicking. Can't_ _think,_" She thought._ "Work on instinct."_

Numbly, she ran to the now unconscious ex-soldier, quickly grabbing his left arm in an effort to drag him to the table ahead of time. He let out a pained groan as she aggravated the wound in his shoulder, and she flinched.

'_Instincts bad_.'

Well, now the Asian girl had missed her opportunity to flee. She had no choice but to stay.

Quasimodo gave her a frightened look that screamed 'what are you still doing here?', though he immediately ran to her side, easily grabbing the man under the arms and dragging him to the table. She didn't like the idea of having the injured guy rough-handled, so Nathalie grabbed the man's feet, trying to assist in some small way.

Besides, true friendship involves helping your buddy hide the body.

"Under the table," She whispered anxiously, wanting to get this done as soon as possible so that she too, could hide.

The redhead complied, stuffing Phoebus in the small space and giving a kick to the man to fit him in. Before Nathalie could protest, he gently but firmly grabbed her arm and ushered her small frame underneath as well.

In the dim light, Nathalie found herself face to face with Emse's guy, and she couldn't help but blush at the uncomfortably close proximity. Meekly, she brought up her hand, pointing a single finger to his forehead and nudging him away a little.

She just wasn't into blondes.

Nathalie bit her lip when she heard footsteps up the stairs. They had hidden just in time.

"Oh-Oh, Master! I didn't think you'd be coming-"

"I'm never too busy to share a meal with you, my boy. I brought a little… treat."

Nathalie shifted her foot slightly just as the judge sat down, preventing contact with him and her boot (no matter how much she wished for the opposite). That was a close one. The sound of shattering glass made her flinch. God, she hated this scene – both for Frollo's loud tirade, and the implication that he had probably been this abusive towards Quasi throughout his entire lonely childhood.

As they talked, Nathalie couldn't help but look up when she heard the familiar sound of a grape bouncing across the floor. She gave the bell ringer a strained smile that she hoped was encouraging.

"I think… you're hiding something," Frollo said.

Damn it, Nathalie could hear the sadistic glee in the judge's voice as he made Quasi more and more nervous. She wanted to strangle that judge by the red ribbon of that stupid black dorito hat of his.

"Oh no, Master, I-uh, there's no-"

"You're not eating, boy,"

That was it, Nathalie wasn't here. She wasn't listening to this; she wasn't under a table, hiding from grave and very real danger. It was daylight, and she was jogging along the pathway of _La Moselle_ River, and -

"Mmmmm…"

Oh, for the love of God, Phoebus.

She hastily covered the soldier's mouth, but it did nothing to stifle the noises.

Quasi covered it up by making similar noises, and Nathalie thought that maybe the soldier would be spared a kick to the head. Nope. True to the story, Quasi's foot hit the mark, and Nathalie frowned sourly up at him, though the table, not caring that couldn't see her.

"What's… different in here?"

Oh, right, where was she? Yes, _La Moselle_. It was especially beautiful in the autumn, right when the leaves contrasted so much with the green-blue of the river…

"I know you helped her ESCAPE!"

…It was especially beautiful when the clouds were overhead, because the mild weather put her at ease, and she didn't sweat like a pig…

"**and now ALL OF PARIS is burning, because of YOU!**"

…There'd always be swans gracefully swimming at the river, though sometimes the river's current became rough, and waves crashed against the bridge in the middle of town…

"**…YOU IDIOT! THAT WASN'T KINDNESS, IT WAS CUNNING**!"

The image was lost to her, and she tried other thoughts – gardening on an afternoon, driving along the countryside at night - but it was no use.

"**She's a Gypsy – Gypsies are not capable of real love! Think boy, think of your ****mother**!"

Nathalie couldn't distract herself, no matter how much she wanted to. She curled up a little and pressed her hands against her mouth to prevent herself making noise, hot tears of anger on her friend's behalf welling up in her eyes.

A hand rested on her shoulder, and she jolted in surprise, until she raised her eyes to see a fully conscious Phoebus. He patted her arm reassuringly, concern on his face. At the sound of Frollo's treatment towards Quasi, he looked up, and then listened in anger to what was unfolding outside of their hiding place. It was then that Nathalie realised she was trembling. Jeez, she must have looked like a coward.

As things calmed down, Nathalie turned, to see the hem of a dark robe, and the Esmeralda figurine, burned and smoking.

"I know where her hideout is, and tomorrow at dawn, I attack with a thousand men."

Her blood ran cold. Wait a second, wasn't he meant to be down the staircase and out the door by now?

"And this time..."

The little Nathalie figure was dropped to the ground, and as the real Nathalie watched, the judge raised his foot, and crushed it. Its arms and head dislodged with a crunch-y snap.

"…I will not tolerate any opposition or interference."

Ooh Sugar Honey Iced Tea. He _did_ remember her.

With that, Frollo finally turned heel and left.

* * *

_A/N:_

_[A large, seemingly billboard descends from the ceiling and confetti is shot into the air. The neon lights on the billboard light up, spelling '__**FREAKING FINALLY**__' in bright, flashing letters.]_

_Plot! Actual plot progression! Real plot progression that lasts more than a mere 950 words!_

_I'm kind of proud of myself. The next few chapters are actually going to be eventful - Nathalie's going to be having fights with more than one person (and someone you wouldn't expect! maybe. idk what you might assume), and there will be angst and drama. It's going to be so fun to write._

_Also, spot the vaguely paraphrased Spiderman reference! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, you awesome readers. uvu_


	11. I Ran Out Of Song Titles

Nathalie and Phoebus emerged from under the bench at the sound of the door closing.

"Urgh… We have to get to the Court of Miracles, before daybreak. If Frollo gets there first…" The ex-soldier frowned. "Are you coming with us?"

Nathalie nodded, but then realised that he was talking to Quasi, and not her. She stood back a little, letting the plot-significant conversation occur.

"I can't," The bell ringer replied, unable to meet the other man's eyes.

"I thought you were Esmeralda's friend."

"Frollo's my master, I can't disobey her again." He turned away.

"She stood up for you! You have a funny way of showing gratitude," Phoebus said bitterly.

The three stood in tense silence, before the soldier spoke again.

"Well, I'm not going to sit by and let Frollo massacre innocent people. You do what you think is right."

As the blonde made to leave, Nathalie stopped him, mouthing 'wait for us' and pointing to Quasi, who wasn't facing either of them. Phoebus raised an eyebrow, but glanced from her to the redhead, and nodded, leaving without a word.

Finally, Quasimodo turned, and saw Nathalie, (and unbeknownst to her, the gargoyles) looking at him expectantly.

"What?" The bell ringer said, frustration in his voice. "What am I supposed to do? Go out there and rescue the girl from the – from the jaws of death, and the whole town will cheer like I'm some kind of hero? She already has her night in shining armour, and it's not me!"

Nathalie didn't say a word, but her expression didn't change. She crossed her arms, shifting her weight to one side of her body.

He took a deep breath and sighed. "Frollo was right. Frollo was right about everything. I'm tired of trying to be something that I'm not."

Quasi looked at her apologetically, speaking in a resigned voice. "Look, I appreciate what you've done for me, and I've appreciated your company all through today. But it's time we stopped pretending."

Nathalie frowned in confusion. This wasn't what was meant to happen – he should have gone after Phoebus by now. Convincing him should be easy! After all, he decided on his own in the original.

"We each have our place in this world, and my place is alone, up here," He continued, not meeting her eyes. "Go home, Nathalie. Just go home."

It was as if someone had stabbed her. Shock and sadness welled up inside her chest. Indignation and hurt- it all swelled in her heart, along another emotion that she never thought she'd feel towards this man – anger.

"So, that's it?" She snapped tersely, quietly, at first, until her voice slowly rose. "You just completely _dismiss_ me, like I'm some sort of stray dog that followed you home?!"

Nathalie stopped herself, and she seethed, crossing her arms.

He looked away, visibly tired. "Nathalie, please. You're not helping."

She turned her back, making to leave, but something caught her eye.

The Asian girl spotted Quasi's cloak on the floorboards nearby, and stopped. It was the same one that she had woken up with – the one that had been shoulders while she slept. Nathalie bent down, picking it up and holding the rough fabric between her fingers.

Glancing back, she saw Quasimodo staring at the two broken figures resting on the floorboards, tracing the lines of his palm with one hand. They locked eyes for a moment.

"You're right," Nathalie said, finally. "I'm _not_ helping – arguing never helps."

She held the cloak out to him, giving him an expectant smile. "Come on. There are more important issues to take care of, at the moment."

From Quasi's point of view, her exact expression and pose was exactly like the other night, when Nathalie offered her strange food to him at their first meeting.

Blue-green eyes darted from the cloak to her, and he sighed. "I must be out of my mind," He said, taking the offered clothing.

"Hey," She said, giving him a grin and a shrug. "One more thing we have in common!"

Despite the situation, Quasi couldn't help but smile a little at that. They both made their way down the cathedral, Nathalie clinging to him and thinking of various activities she'd get up to in the modern world, pointedly ignoring the massive distance between them and the ground below.

* * *

In hindsight, Nathalie didn't know why she let Quasi sneak up on poor Phoebus when the ex-soldier was waiting, standing alone outside the cathedral and looking impatient.

"Phoebus!"

"Gah!"

But damn it all, it was funny.

"Shh! We're going with you."

"Glad you changed your mind," Phoebus said, subtly glancing at Nathalie.

"I'm not doing it for you, I'm doing it for Esmeralda," Quasi said.

Welp, obviously someone had a few jealousy issues to sort out. Nathalie discreetly rubbed the back of her neck, tuning out of the conversation. The heartbreak was over and done with – why was she still feeling that weird pang?

Nathalie stood awkwardly while the two pondered the woven necklace that Esmeralda had given Quasimodo. It was no use spoiling anything – these guys had to figure it out on their own.

The redhead's face had lit up in understanding. "'_When you wear this woven band, you hold the city in your hand'_… It's the city!"

Nathalie smiled proudly. Quasi was a smart guy, he was. He didn't get enough credit for that, in her opinion.

Then, the two men quickly dissolved into arguing, and the smile slipped off her face and one eyelid twitched. Oh, come on.

"Um... Hey, guys?"

They ignored her.

"Phoebus? Quasi?"

They still went – arguing for more than the movie had let them.

"Guys- C'mon. Quasi, what did I say about arguing? That was literally ten seconds ago. _Guys_?"

This was all getting very old, very fast. Finally, Nathalie thought of her brother, and what he used to do to people who annoyed him. Taking two fingers in each hand and curling them, she jabbed both arguing parties in the sides with her knuckles, making them jump with a jolt and exclaim in surprise. Both parties turned towards her, rubbing their ribs.

"Alright, now that I have your attention," She said in a no-nonsense tone. "We're all twenty or older, right?"

"…You're twenty?" Quasi asked quietly, words escaping his lips before he new he had said them.

"I'm twenty-two!" Nathalie said, throwing her hands in the air in frustration at both men's disbelieving expressions. "Its… It's the freckles, isn't it? Anyway…"

"We're all mature adults," The Asian girl continued. "So we will settle this like mature adults. We have to find a certain lady, remember?"

The ex soldier sighed, and nodded. "She's right," He said to Quasi. "If you say it's a map, fine, it's a map. If we're going to find Esmeralda, then we're going to have to work together."

He patted the bell ringer on the back. "Truce?"

Quasi nodded. "Well, okay," He said, hitting Phoebus in the back rather unnecessarily hard, eliciting a wince from the other man.

"Sorry," The redhead murmured.

"…No you're not."

Nathalie couldn't help but grin and roll her eyes at their antics.

* * *

_A/N: So. University exams. They're a thing. But I'm back for a bit!_

_I hope that little argument wasn't too OOC, I just went by how irritable Quasi seemed after the whole episode with Frollo, and let the writing take it from there. I mean, the poor guy has been going through a lot, and Nathalie's presence changes things a little bit._

_My Nanay (mother) once told me that it's best for a couple to have their first argument as early as possible in the relationship, because they'd be able to see if they can solve it easily and peacefully. If so, that means that it's likely that the relationship would go smoothly, as both parties are good at handling disputes with each other. So, I thought I might borrow a bit of her wisdom, haha!_

_(Also, I had to make a joke about how we Asian folks tend to be older than we look. I'm nineteen and people still demand to see my I.D.! I still look like a school student, and it gets frustrating sometimes.)_

_Anyway, my updating will be a little bit slower, since I'm not in a rush anymore. On the bright side, you won't be bombarded with chapter after chapter. OTL Still, stay tuned, guys! :)_


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